


The Moon and the Sun

by WinterAssassin3605



Category: Gods Of Egypt (2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm really bad at tags, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 09:23:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14257908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAssassin3605/pseuds/WinterAssassin3605
Summary: Bek never really considered Apep a threat, until his hands are tied behind his back and there's blood pouring from his shoulder, staining his new leathers.





	The Moon and the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Horbek! Seriously, this ship really needs more fanfiction, it's so sad.

Bek cried out, his head shoved into the dirt as Apep stood tall above him, foot set firmly on the mortal’s lower back. The deity roared, feeling the human squirming beneath him. He pressed harder, the pleasant release of a pop followed by a scream bearing music to the god’s ears. The mortal had wandered onto his land, his temple, for reasons unknown to him, and he was determined to find out why.

 

He dragged the mortal by his now dislocated shoulder to the pillars that supported his temple, the chains used for the prisoner’s bonds rusted and probably unfit for containment, but Apep didn’t care, he only concern is why this mortal had stumbled upon his place of worship without anything to offer or sacrifice.

 

“Is there a purpose for your presence at my temple?” The god asked, observing the mortal at his feet. The boy shook his head as if annoyed, arms pulling at his bonds.

 

“If you are to answer, you are to speak, mortal.” Apep spat, standing from his throne.

 

“You gods are all the same.”

 

“The same?” How dare you insult me!” The deity cried, thrusting his spear at the male, the blade striking mere inches away, the limestone cracking and falling away from the already crumbling pillar. There was a sound from high up in the temple, but the god of chaos paid no mind. The mortal huffed, seeming unamused while blowing a lock of hair from his eyes.

 

“Like I said,” the boy repeated, glancing at the spear lodged into the pedestal. “The same.”

 

Apep frowned at the mortal, pulling his spear free and slamming the hilt on the ground by his feet. He had seen gods unaffected by his weapon but never had he witnessed a mortal barely even flinch when threatened with his blade. This was a phenomenon by itself, mortals have never lived this confident in the eyes of the gods until this day.

 

Previously he had heard of a mortal originating from Horus’ kingdom that had assisted the King with taking back the crown. Apep had been perplexed by this and had sat on his throne for over four days, contemplating ways to steal this mortal for himself in order to examine and pick him apart.

 

The mortal withered under Apep’s gaze, the god immersed in thought. If he were to get his hands on this mortal, he could seize the crown, and Horus would be left without his weapon, limited and defenseless. That would place him even greater than Set, who was too inadequate and cocky to carry out such a simple task.

 

“I will ask once more mortal, how did you stumble upon my temple?”

 

“My name isn’t ‘mortal’, and I was sent to address a message, to which I was rudely interrupted by a god who can’t even find the time to clean,” the latter spoke, nodding towards the lurid temple. A muffled laughter sounded from above the temple, catching Apep’s ear until the mortal spoke again.

 

“This place is a mess.”

 

The god of chaos rallied, threatening the mortal with his spear, the blade urged tightly against his throat, drawing blood. “I will not be mocked in my own temple, let alone by a mortal! You will deliver whatever you have to present and your blood will stain the stone of my sanctuary for I have no use with that of a worthless servant out to do their master’s dirty work.”

 

Letting his chin fall to his chest, the mortal was not wounded by these words, for he had been called out numerous times as a child and even as the King’s adviser. A mortal could only do so much. “My King had asked that you call off your beasts in the southern lands, they have been hunting his people and he will not endure it any longer.

 

“That is what you came all this way to say, a message concerning the King’s subjects? Why would the Lord of the Air be troubled for the mortals of his kingdom? They’re only slaves.”

 

A snarl escaped the man’s lips, teeth tightly clenched. “The mortals of his kingdom are not slaves, they are people, and they deserve to be cared for, they do sustain his kingdom, therefore, he attends to their obligations and protection.”

 

“Protection?” Apep growled, his laughter reverberating off the dome enclosing his temple. “The King has gone soft!”

 

“That is where you are mistaken.”

 

The deity glanced back to the mortal, brows raised. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that you cared for the King.”

 

“Yes, I do, and I am not ashamed,” Bek hissed, venom laced with his words. “I earned his love and he has deserved mine in return, something you will never experience.”

 

“Enough!” The god of chaos sneered, reeling back his blade.

 

“No Apep, I have had enough.” A voice spoke from the shadows, the frame of the King presenting itself in the light.

 

“Horus, are you here for the mortal? Because I suppose I might have damaged him a little.” The mortal’s scream ricocheted off the temple walls as Apep pierced his shoulder, the back of his head connecting with the pillar.

 

“Bek!” The Lord of the Air shrieked, tossing a stone high above Apep’s tall build. The deity of chaos seized the stone mid-air, inspecting it before his hands froze, thoroughly studying the markings on the golden rock. He flinched, unable to drop his gaze from the stone. Horus praised Ra for the opportunity and broke Bek of his chains, gingerly carrying him out of the temple. The stone that held Apep’s stare had served its purpose, just like Thoth had assured him it would, the god’s ancient knowledge put to trial during the production of the rock. Thoth had named it a ‘birthstone’ and had given multiple to Horus as a gift for his true coronation, explaining that it was only to be used for emergencies. Well, Horus being Horus, had investigated and made the mistake of observing one of the stones. The King's eyes had been glued to the stone for two weeks before Bek eventually cracked and retrieved Thoth from his library.

 

“H-Horus?” Bek panted, grasping onto Horus’s battle tunic.

 

“Shhh my love,” Horus muttered, smoothing back the hair flopping into his adviser’s panicked, heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re safe now.”

 

Horus’s ‘god’ form enveloped his body, leaving his face bare, the silent gesture, a pleasure to the small frame bundled up in his arms. The Lord of the Air kissed Bek’s brow, uncurling his wings and piloting off into the sky.

 

As they glided, Bek shook in his arms, blood trickling from the wound within his shoulder. Seeing this, Horus flew faster, descending gently on the front steps of his palace, sinking to his knees. He beckoned the guards to summon Hathor and prayed to Ra that she would reach them in time.

 

Her scream declared her presence and Horus looked up, tears painting his cheeks. Hathor ran to him, tucking his head in the crook of her shoulder, grimacing at the sobs that sounded from his lips. Without much movement, she levered Bek from Horus’s embrace, his arms outstretched to offer the mortal’s limp body to the goddess.

 

She lingered, expecting for Horus to follow, but he stayed kneeling. “Go.”

 

Hathor nodded and hurried to the healing wing, her footsteps echoing off the walls. Once she discovered an open cot, she laid Bek atop the white sheets, stripping him of his tight, leather apparel. This had been a healing place for the gods, as stated by Ra himself and his kin, but Hathor didn’t bother, and neither did the mortals circling her with medicine, volunteering their assistance.

 

The deity of love smiled sadly. These humans were willing to assist her without pay, and she was remarkably grateful. She accepted their methods and familiarity with healing his wounds and she operated the best she could, stifling the sobs that threatened to escape whenever she lost Bek’s heartbeat.

 

Whenever she wasn’t worried she was fascinated. No common mortal could have ever endured the wrath of Apep’s blade, but Bek had, and he is. Surviving.

 

“How is he?” Hathor slowed her trembling and placed her hand tenderly on the boy's exposed throat, shifting to face the King.

 

“He’s pulling through.”

 

Horus shuffled over to the bed, settling down on the side of the bed and almost puking when he rested his eyes upon Bek’s pale, lifeless form. He enveloped the mortal’s hand in his own, leaning his temple against Bek’s, kissing his brow. “I assume you want an explanation.”

 

“Why not?” Hathor scowled at her king, her friend, her brother.

 

“I had gathered from the families on the outer cities that hounds had risen to attack at nightfall and that they wished for them to stop. Bek appeared to have overheard me and presented a plan to deliver a message to Apep, the origin of these hounds, from me. This morning I woke to an empty bed and raced to him as fast as I could.

 

Bek whimpered and Horus tightened his grip on the smaller man’s limp hand. “I was too late.”

 

Hathor, who was on the brink of tears herself, took the King’s face in her hands. “This is not your fault.” She forced Horus to meet her eyes. “This was never your fault, and neither is it Beks. This is of Apep’s doing, and no sort of self-blame will ever change that.”

 

The Lord of the Air bowed his temple against Bek’s, raking a hand through his adviser’s knotted hair. Hathor let out an unsteady sigh, placing a hand on Horus’s shoulder before leaving him a list of preparations for the next couple of hours.

 

After the first hour, Bek woke, groaning and whispering nothings in the humid air. Horus’s heart broke as he proceeded to smooth back the mortal’s hair, kissing his forehead. At this, Bek’s eyes snapped open, exposing two dark brown orbs.

 

“Horus?”

 

“Yes, love.”

 

“Where am I?”

 

“In the healing wing.”

 

Bek moved to sit up, but the King’s hand was quick to stop him, gradually lowering him back onto the bed. The mortal allowed himself to be tucked beneath the sheets, a slight numbing pain gnawing at his shoulder. He failed to speak, his mouth parched and dry to the touch, yearning for a drink as big as the Nile. Horus regarded his slight uncomfort and supplied him with water, Bek inhaling it and whining when the cup ran dry.

 

“Thirsty are we?” Horus joked, setting his feet on the ground. Bek got itchy and stretched out to grasp the god’s hand. Horus beamed and sat beside the smaller man, kissing his lips.

 

“It’s alright Bek, I won’t abandon you.” When Bek’s cheeks tinted pink, Horus caught his chin and positioned it so that they were face to face. “And I never will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not that good at updating frequently so I'm apologizing in advance before I get yelled at, but I will gladly take comments and kudos from you guys to remind me if you like it. 
> 
> Another thing I will apologize for is my writing, I know it's bad, so I am sorry.


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